


love is only unrequited if they don’t long to return it

by sultrygoblin



Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Not Actually Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25103002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sultrygoblin/pseuds/sultrygoblin
Summary: one shot -  i understand with perfect clarity who you are. i'm not asking you for anything. when i say i love you, it's not because i want you. or because i can’t have you. it has nothing to do with me.
Relationships: Gwen Cooper/Owen Harper, Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones, Owen Harper/Reader, Owen Harper/Toshiko Sato, Owen Harper/You
Kudos: 13





	love is only unrequited if they don’t long to return it

**Author's Note:**

> summary is a very edited buffy quote

“Is that what I think it is?” you don’t wait for an answer before leaning over Owen’s shoulder, grabbing the mug and taking a long sip, “There’s no creamer in here.”

“Because it’s not your coffee,” he smiled sarcastically, taking the cup back and setting it back in its spot on his desk, “There is the option to get your own coffee-”

“Do you want to tell him Ianto or should I?” attempting to reach over him again and instead of getting a tight grip on your wrist. You shoo away the far too familiar thoughts quickly, “We’ve run out of coffee.”

“Of coffee?” came Gwen’s voice, “And no one’s gone down to the shop?” sneaking the cup around the other side and taking her own sip before handing to you with a wink.

“Jack would like us all to stay put,” he sighed, clearly exasperated and it wasn’t even noon, “After I will happily go to shop-”

“After the murder?” Tosh finally piped up from her station, “You’ll be dead. Who would go instead?”

“I’m sure Owen wouldn’t mind,” setting the now mostly empty mug on his desk and plopping your hands on his shoulders, “I’ll pout just like you like and everything.”

“Hey!” Jack’s voice suddenly boomed with a snap, “I thought that was an us thing?” the look of faux hurt was far too much for everyone.

And then it’s business as usual. Your phone chirps once or twice, earning a raised eyebrow from the good doctor and a supportive smile from the once police inspector. You delete the texts under the table before even reading them. What was the point after all? Even if a real relationship were possible- it just wasn’t in the cards. Which is exactly what you’ll say when the subject of these mysterious texts came up later. You’ve got a mountain of equations to get through and autopsies keep him busy. But only for so long after all.

“So when do you start texting them back?” pretending to think hard about it as he leaned on the edge of your text, “You can not convince me that these blokes aren’t just absolutely smitten.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Dr. Harper,” setting the yellow pad down on your desk and shaking your head with that smile he knew far too well by now. The one that said you were faking it, “It’s just not what I want right now, y’know?”

“Uh-huh,” tongue tucked behind his molars as he stared you down, hoping maybe this would be the time you cracked, “Why don’t I believe you?”

You shrugged, “That really sounds like more of a you problem,” nodding slowly as you narrowed your eyes at him, “Do you have something for me?”

A small white cup appeared from behind his back, “Don’t go around telling everyone. Then they’d start expecting favors.”

“God forbid you’re kind to anyone,” you chuckled, taking a long sip of the elixir of life and basically moaning, “Have I told you that I love you?”

He bit his bottom lip, looking up at the ceiling pretending to think, “Not today,  _ no _ .”

You patted his arm, “You are the love of my life.”

“Careful,” he laughed, hand over the back of yours, “I might start to believe you.”

He should. You’re not lying. You mean it every time you say it. Tosh and Gwen haven’t picked up on it yet and Ianto just thinks it’s the way you are. It’s the Captain. Jack has been around long enough to know when those words are real and even though he hasn’t said anything you’ve seen the glint in his eyes. He knows the secret you’ve been hiding since you met the man. Because he’s old enough to know the simple fact that you had nothing to do with the decision. If he did bring it up most of the conversation would be you explaining why you agree it’s a terrible idea. Mostly because he’s your favorite person, all feelings aside, and losing that would drive you absolutely insane. If it weren’t for that-

“Your staring,”  _ speaking of dashing men _ , grabbing the back of the chair and spinning it, “His ignorance is incredible.”

“You doubt my skill,” you scoffed, gripping the arms of your chair and pushing yourself to your feet, “I think this is more jealousy than anything.”

“Jealousy?” sliding his arm over your shoulder as he lead you towards his office, privacy was about to be paramount but it wasn’t the dreaded conversation it seemed, “What could I be jealous of?”

“My ass obviously.”

“Oh yes obviously.”

It’s math. Which is great because it yanks the good doctor from your mind and points your focus in a useful direction. You’ve just finished going over where you’re at in the side project he’s given you to work on. Hush-hush, of course, when there’s a knock on the door. Gwen pokes her head in with a wavering smile.

“Owen’s looking for you,” there’s so much tension for a thousand different reasons, “Something about you and Ianto having gone out for drinks.”

This earns raised eyebrows from your companion and you shake your head with a laugh, “Well, looks like I’ll be putting out this fire and then having drinks,” patting Jack’s shoulder as you hopped to your feet, “He’s all yours,” unable to stop yourself as you passed her. 

Another awkward point. You’d known Tosh quite a while and it helped that she didn’t realize it was the both of you. But Gwen had, she’d caught that angry look during the time of their escapades and...well, you hadn’t exactly been friends before. Things had become civil with a side of snide. Another thing everyone seemed unaware of. Or had just chosen to ignore in favor of not dealing with it. Either way, you were enjoying the silence. You swung down the stairs and stopped at the railing.

“It’s not Ianto!” you shout over the bone saw and he stops it with an angry sigh, “ _ You’re  _ the one who told her.”

“It has to be someone,” this has been his newest argument and he isn’t wrong. But there’s no way he’s going to guess it, “Don’t you trust me?”

You hissed, scrunching up your face and shaking your head, “Is that a rabbit hole you want to go down?”

Glancing at the body and then back to you, “I’ll just finish up here and we can go have some drinks. Talk about it,” which only made you screw up your face more, “What?”

“You’re up to something,” pointing at him and only relaxing your face because it had begun to ache, “I’m suspicious of you.”

“As you should be,” he chuckled with that heart-stopping smile, “Now go be sexy and nerdy somewhere else and I’ll get you when it’s time get drunk.”

“It’s like I made you in a computer,” which you actually mean but, of course, he laughs and starts up the saw again.

You really aren’t too interested in the math now. More content to let your eyes travel other the others as their’s do you occasionally. It can’t be helped. Like how Tosh’s eyebrow twitches in annoyance, no doubt listening in on your conversation. You’ll take it over the awkward encounters with Gwen. You two hadn’t exactly gelled well to start with but both of you were grown-ups. You’d created a workplace friendship that got you through the day and then... She makes far too much an effort not to look or listen when it comes to the both of you. There’s a lot on her mind as is. Then Jack and Ianto, who make your heart swell just like the Grinch’s. It’s small things but you know what to look for. You do them often yourself to an audience far less receptive. It’s good they don’t know you can see, they deserve these moments.  _ Everyone deserves love _ .

You feel hands on your shoulders and jump, “You didn’t used to think this much, you know?” came the Devil’s voice and you smiled, leaning your head back awkwardly over the chair.

“I think the exact same amount. You’ve just done me the courtesy of no longer looking at my arse,” you shoot back, climbing to your feet and grabbing your jacket.

“Just not as often,” an over-dramatic pointed look drove the joke home, “Still can’t stare too long or I lose time.”

“You are a massive flirt today,” it slips out, your thankful for its nonchalance because you’d only meant to think it as you slipped on your jacket.

That unreadable smirk twisting his lips furthers your suspicions from earlier, “Just today?” raising his eyebrows.

It’s familiar to feel him slip his arm around your shoulders as he leads you towards the exit. But it feels different for some reason. Maybe it’s those two words hanging in the air or how calm the day had been simply leaving you antsy. The wink your cheeky Captain sends you is not at all helped by the knowing smile of his companion that makes it clear that the couple needs some time apart. You can feel the eyes burning into the back of your head. You’re starting to wonder if everyone had gotten some sort of memo that you hadn’t when you stop.

“This isn’t the way to the pub,” you pointed out, the mostly deserted streets and dim streetlamps make it more than clear.

He rolled his eyes, “Tosh is right, you are rubbish at being surprised,” continuing onward to whatever this was.

You’re too busy being offended to pay all that attention you had been attempting to grab, “I think being aware of your surroundings is just a good way to not die is all,” you didn’t realize he could roll his eyes harder, “What is going on with you?”

He wants to stop, he wants to yell at you, they are familiar things you see flitting across his face. But he’s battering them down. Which is even more confusing if you’re being perfectly honest. How deep had this plan really gone? Thinking of the odd silence looming over The Hub, not even a false alarm. A blip from the rift. You shake your head because that’s ridiculous because there is no reason to plan anything that involved. And then you’re at the docks. Your favorite place. Especially on nights like tonight, when it’s dark and the moon is full. You had planned to come here after drinks even.

He steps away and in front of you, “You’re in love with me,” it honestly isn’t what you expect.

Neither is the sense of calm that rushes over you, “He said,” you’re  _ truly _ free, “As if I had any choice in the matter.”

Which very clearly is not what he expected you to say, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Being in love with you has nothing to do with me. It’s not something that grew. It just happened,” remembering the night before, when you had found the words now pouring from your mouth impossible to find let alone say, “And I hate to tell you this but it’s always been there.”

“How do you even live with that?” he asks, the sympathy lacing his voice is surprisingly comforting.

“I don’t want,” it feels so good, to be honest, too look him in the eye and speak the truth you thought was better kept secret, “I stay happy with what I have. I try to find someone who makes me feel even half what you do. Which, for the record, is impossible. So thank you for just ruining all that,” he snickers along with you, but the amusement is short-lived. You reach forward and pat his chest comfortingly as you’ve done a thousand times before, “I’m not happy. But I’m not unhappy about it. I’m okay with that.”

He grabbed your hand as you went to pull it back, you gasp, “You shouldn’t be. How...why...”

You shake your head with a sad smile, “I don’t know,” gaze turning to the crashing water around you, “Owen, why are we here?”

“I had a list, you know? Of all the reasons I’m a twat, then all the ways you’re better than me,” tugging you forward, his hand against your thick coat at the small of your back pulling you closer, “And while they all remain completely accurate, I’m trying to remember why I thought it was a good idea to tell you.”

“Oh I’m already quite aware of all those things,” trying to focus on breathing, of keeping your body from trembling, you’ve wanted to be here a thousand times and suddenly you have no idea what to do with the opportunity, “I have a notebook. How long’s yours?” raising an eyebrow and happy to see him smile that cheeky grin that lets you know you should be taking everything  _ far  _ less seriously.

“ _ Then  _ I was going to tell you that I too am a complete idiot and have fallen in love with you. We would’ve kissed, gone back to my flat, all that good stuff. But as only you are capable of doing-”

If Owen wanted a surprise you decided he would get one. Even if it wasn’t the one he had been planning. At this point in your friendship, he should’ve expected something like this but it had still caught him completely off guard. As did how soft your lips were or how you seemed to press forward and pull away in a way that stopped him from thinking about anything aside from this moment. Which had been your plan if you ever got a chance at this. Thankfully you didn’t have to make him fall in love with you. He’d gone ahead and done all that work for you.

His hand suddenly grips the back of your neck, stopping your minor retreats in their tracks and slip his tongue between the seam of your lips. This was Owen Harper after all and you’re quite sure he’d be damned if he let you have the upper hand for too long. It was far easier to just give him what he wanted and this didn’t seem to be an exception. Hands slipping beneath his jacket to grip the cotton around his waist in your fists. He tastes just like black coffee that’s been aggressively covered with breath mints and mouth wash. Answering a question you hadn’t realized you’d been wondering all this time. Every part of you tingles when his tongue is replaced with a tugging on your lower lip. Allowing you to draw in a ragged breath. The air around you both seems suddenly heavy and though your lips are no longer quite touching the moment feels no different than when they were.

“You should’ve told me,” he pants, fingers digging into your skin pleasantly, “You’re  _ supposed  _ to tell me these things,” you’ve never heard the tone in his voice, that perfect place where anger, love, and need meet.

“How do I tell you that?” the whisper brushing your lips against his, “How do I lose you like that?” 

“You worry too bloody much,” he’s always telling you that but for the first time you really believe him, “I would really have liked to known I could’ve been doing this the whole time.”

You don’t have to ask what. He’s quite happy to show you.


End file.
